


In His Footsteps

by eirenical (chibi1723)



Category: Mighty Ducks (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Career Change, Friendship, Gen, Moving On, Reconciliation, Yuletide, Yuletide 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 08:38:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2806280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibi1723/pseuds/eirenical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fame came at a high price… and it was one Adam Banks was weary of paying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In His Footsteps

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coltsbane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coltsbane/gifts).



> **_December 19, 2014:_** It's been quite some time since I last played in this fandom and I was ecstatic when we matched on it. So, I hope you enjoy reading my little fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! Happy Yuletide!

Twenty years. 

More than half a lifetime. 

Eden Hall seemed smaller, now. All of Minnesota seemed smaller, now.

Though at one time of his life, he could never have imagined leaving, now it was just as hard to imagine coming back. Adam had come a long way from the naïve young man he'd been when he last walked these halls. His world was bigger, now, his view wider. He'd walked among giants, had his life written large and splashed across the front page of newspapers, magazines, blogs. Everyone wanted to know the man behind the stick. Everyone wanted to take a small piece of him with them when they left -- and they always left in the end.

Fame came at a high price… and it was one Adam Banks was weary of paying.

Walking these halls, Adam felt like a ghost, like a person out of step with time. He didn't belong here, not truly. He'd never really felt like he belonged anywhere. As a child he'd been raised to fulfill certain obligations -- good grades, good connections, fame and fortune if it was within him to attain them -- and every step he'd taken along the path that had led to this moment had only reinforced those lessons. There hadn't been more than one brief, shining moment when he'd been allowed to be more than the goal-scoring automaton his father had raised him to be.

Here.

With the Ducks.

"Is that…?"

"Sh! He'll hear you!"

"But, it's--!"

"Can't you see he doesn't want to be bothered?"

"I don't care. He's only the best scorer the Wild's ever had. You can hide if you want, but I am not missing a chance to get his autograph before they trade him."

"You mean that wasn't just a rumor?"

"Who the hell knows? All I know is I’m not missing my chance now that it's gotten dumped in my lap. Because if that's not Adam Banks, I'll eat my damned hockey stick."

Adam hid his smile in his hand as he turned away from the trophy case he'd been staring at to regard the two children he'd overheard talking. He paused then, dropping his hand and raising an eyebrow at the two children who were "hiding" behind another glass display case. For a moment he felt a wave of nostalgia so strong it made his breath catch. The two could have been a young Connie and Guy. The girl was dark-skinned with a riot of curls held back by a headband. She was wearing a hockey jersey over her school uniform and had a Sharpie clutched tightly in her hand. The boy was fairer, every hair and button precisely in its place, but just as intently focused in Adam's direction. Adam could see a puck peaking out of the top of the boy's Eden Hall binder. Neither one could have been older than sixteen. When they realized they'd been spotted, both jumped and ducked further behind the display case. Adam called out to the pair, "Hello. It's nice to see I still have some fans at Eden Hall. Why don't you come out from behind there and tell me your names?"

The girl reached out and lightly smacked the boy in the arm. "I _told_ you that was Adam Banks. You should listen to me when I tell you things. You'd get in a lot less trouble that way." Moments later, she was in front of Adam and holding out her hand. "Makayla Thompson, but most people call me Mickey." She jerked her head towards the boy who was now close on her heels, "This is Austin. You're really Adam Banks, aren't you?"

Adam smiled, again. These two were reminding him more and more of Connie and Guy with each passing minute. Inclining his head at the pair, Adam shook Mickey's hand, then reached past her to shake Austin's, as well. "Yes, I really am Adam Banks. Pleasure to make your acquaintances. Now, was I hearing something about wanting an autograph?"

Before either Mickey or Austin could answer, another voice interrupted from the end of the hall. "Oh, no. Don't get him started. You're going to give him a swelled head, and then I'm the one who'll have to deal with him puffing his chest up all over the place all week."

Adam looked up, couldn't have helped the way his lips stretched into a wider smile, free this time of melancholy, if he'd wanted to. Forgoing a handshake in favor of enveloping the new arrival in a back thumping hug, he said, "I have never _once_ puffed my chest at you. _Or_ gotten a swelled head. Besides, you're a better strategist than I am on the ice and you always were. All I do is score goals."

Guy leaned back out of that embrace with a wry smile. "Yeah, well, strategy's what they look for in coaches, not players, and you always scored at least three goals to every one of mine and by now I'm sure it's more. That's why they pay you the big bucks, anyway, isn't it?"

Adam gripped Guy's shoulder and slowly shook his head. "That may be true, but it's not why I'm here. I'm here to get away from all that for a while. To see my friends. To help Coach Orien celebrate his retirement. This week, I'm just one of the Ducks, OK?"

Guy smiled, raised a hand to pat Adam's hand. "OK, Adam. If that's how you want it, then that's how it is." He leaned in close and whispered his next words. "But all teasing aside, if you don't sign Mickey's hockey jersey, I'm never going to hear the end of it and she's the best puck handler I have. I like to keep her happy."

Laughing softly, Adam nodded. "Anything to keep your star happy, Coach." The hopeful smile on Mickey's face would have been enough to get him to sign whatever she wanted anyway, but he'd always been a sucker for the younger fans. They didn't want so much, didn't take so much.

Once the two children were gone, Guy steered Adam towards his office, settled him in one of the two armchairs and went to go get them both a cup of coffee. It was a nice office -- comfortable, lived in. Guy had been the JV coach at Eden Hall for almost five years now, having retired from a successful but unexciting career in the NHL in favor of teaching. It suited him. He seemed happier than when Adam had seen him last, more relaxed, as though a weight had been lifted from him… a weight that Adam knew well.

When Guy returned with the coffee, Adam thanked him, then waited until Guy settled himself in the other chair before speaking. "I'm the first one to arrive, then, I take it?"

Guy nodded. "Charlie and Linda are driving up tomorrow, Dean and Fulton the day after that, Connie and Dwayne are getting in on Wednesday, and everyone else the day after that." 

Of course, Adam had known that. He'd planned it that way. He'd needed this one day to have Guy to himself. He needed this one day to get something off his chest, something he'd kept behind his teeth for five years.

Guy went on, laying out their plans for the week, unaware that Adam had any kind of ulterior motive. "We've got something planned for Thursday night, just a small thing for the former Ducks, dinner at my place, nothing fancy. The big ceremony at the school is on Friday and then I thought this weekend we might play a few scrimmage games, just for old times' sake, before everyone goes their separate ways again. What do you think? Care to stoop to playing with us amateurs for a day?"

"You're no amateur." Adam winced when that came out sharper than he'd intended. When Guy made no answer but to raise an eyebrow at Adam's tone, Adam continued. "You made it. You were there. You had a career. You threw it all away, yeah, but you're no amateur."

Guy let out a short laugh and in four words proved he hadn't been as oblivious to the undercurrent in the room as Adam had thought. "And there it is." Placing his mug down on the table between the two chairs, Guy leaned forward, pointing one finger in Adam's direction. "You're angry at me. You were angry when I left and you're still angry, now." When Adam opened his mouth to argue, Guy shook his head. "Don't bother denying it. It's written all over your face. You never could hide your emotions worth a damn. What I want to know is why? We were such good friends and now, except for Christmas cards, I hardly hear from you at all. What happened? Where is all that anger coming from?"

Adam met Guy's eyes for all of ten seconds before he had to look away. He snorted. "You want to know why I'm angry? You want to know what happened? You left. We were friends and you _left_. We had a good thing going, a good team. We were winning. The Wild was on top for the first time in years. We were the last of the Ducks and we were unstoppable. And then one day, you just announce that you're retiring. You had at least another five years in you, probably more. Why couldn't you wait?" Unspoken were the words, "…until I was ready to leave, too?"

"That's what this is about?" Guy's voice rose, his eyebrows quickly following suit. "You're upset because I left the party without you? Adam, are you kidding me?"

Feeling heat rising into his cheeks, Adam ducked his head for minute, busied himself with his coffee cup. Put that way… it did sound a bit ridiculous, but that didn't make the hurt any less real. When he raised his head, Adam said, "It hasn't been the same since you left. The game is still… I don't know. The game is still the game. I still love to play. But the rest… it's not fun anymore. I'm 38 years old, Guy. I'm too old to hang out with the kids fresh off the draft -- hell, I'm old enough to be the father of one of them -- and the few who are left that are my age… they're married. They have families. There's no room for me in that."

_I'm lonely._

Guy reached out, took Adam's hand in his and said softly, "Why do you think I left?"

Adam's head jerked up at that, eyes seeking Guy's, certain that he couldn't have said what he just had. Guy shrugged, and a lopsided smile took over his features. "It was always you, Adam -- from the minute Coach Bombay got you transferred to our team from the Hawks. You're it. You're the star. They practically worship you on the fan sites, you know. Every product you endorse skyrockets in sales. Your name is synonymous with winning and it has been for years. You're the NHL's new Gretsky." He let go of Adam's hand and leaned back, shrugged again. "That's not me. That's never been me. I'm a good player, but I'm a workhorse; only the real lifers know my name. I got out from under Connie's shadow and stepped straight into yours with barely a pause." Adam moved to speak, but Guy shook his head, "And I didn't _mind_ , OK? That spotlight is harsh and I could see the toll it took on you even in the beginning. That life… it's a hard life. It's a _good_ life and it's absolutely worth it, but it's hard. You thrived on it. I didn't. So I stayed as long as I could, tried to make myself believe that it was what I wanted, but… I wasn't happy." Guy looked around his office, and that twisted smile straightened out, softened. "I am, now. _That's_ why I left."

Adam's hand clenched into a fist before he even noticed his fingers moving. It wasn't like he had any kind of claim on Guy. Hell, they hadn't even been close until they'd been drafted into the pro league together. But being here, in this place where his friends had once turned their backs on him… somehow, it still felt like a betrayal. "So that's it? You didn't think you should talk to me about it? Give me a chance to convince you to stay?"

"To be honest… I didn't think you'd care. Certainly not this much." Guy sighed. "You had other friends on the team. You had your fans. You had everything you'd ever wanted. I didn't figure you'd even miss me." Looking up to meet Adam's gaze, Guy finished softly, "I guess I was wrong. I'm sorry."

And with that apology, a lead weight that Adam had been carrying around in his heart for over five years just… dissipated. He shook his head. "We never were any good about talking about our feelings -- any of us. If I wasn't happy… well, it's not like I talked to you, either."

Guy said, softly, "Still… you were my friend, Adam. And beyond even that, ducks fly together, right? I should have seen it. I'm sorry I didn't."

They lapsed into silence then, neither quite sure what to say. Guy picked up his coffee, frowned when he took a sip, then put it back down. Adam took a sip of his, then made an equally disgusted face -- stone cold. Just like this conversation. It was five years cold and there was no salvaging it. But if they couldn't go backwards… maybe there was a way to go forwards.

Placing his mug down on the table, Adam leaned forward and tapped Guy's hand. A wicked smile blooming on his face, he said, "What do you say we head out on the ice and show these kids of yours how it's really done?"

Guy's head jerked up, his gaze locking with Adam's, and whatever he saw there made an equally wicked smile bloom on his own face. "I say you're on, my friend. You're on."

* * *

The scrimmage went like this -- the entire JV team vs. Adam and Guy. Age and experience against youth and numbers. Makayla and Austin practically held court in the locker room when it was discovered that they'd met and talked to Adam before the others, and Adam couldn't help but laugh. They were so earnest, so enthusiastic… it was getting easier to remember when he had been the same way. And judging by the soft smile on Guy's face, he remembered, too.

Once they were suited up, Adam and Guy left the locker room, went out to take a spin around the ice and put together a few strategies -- covering that goal was going to be hard with only two of them, but scoring would be even harder with one of them stuck between the goal posts. But of course… Guy had an answer for that. He'd always been skilled that way -- taking in the entire picture of what was on the ice, processing it and responding to it, before it could trip any of them up. The work he'd done behind the scenes to keep the ice clear had made the first line's job so much easier that Adam had begun to take it for granted long before Guy left; had taken _Guy_ for granted. Thinking back… the Ducks had taken him for granted, too.

Guy had never been one to garner praise for his playing. He was solid; he was dependable, but he wasn't flashy… wasn't a star. Some of the Ducks had been surprised when Guy was the only one other than Adam to make the minor leagues and then the majors. Adam had been surprised, too, if he were honest with himself. He'd never noticed Guy before that. Years of camaraderie on the ice had changed that, but apparently he'd forgotten, just the same.

They fell into the familiar pattern of stick drills, passing the puck back and forth between them to warm up. And, listening to Guy spin out plan after plan as they skated around the rink, Adam made a silent vow to himself. No more. Even if they never played on another team together after this, Adam would not make the mistake of taking Guy for granted a third time.

When the JV team finally got themselves out on the ice and sorted, Adam had a moment of uncertainty. It had been five years since he and Guy had played together. Five years since they'd trusted each other so implicitly that they practically moved as one on the ice. That was a long time… and neither was as young as they'd once been.

A moment later, Adam was startled out of his reverie by Makayla shouting from across the ice, "What do you say, geezers? Age before beauty? Or do we toss for it? Maybe we should spot you a goal or three?"

Before either Adam or Guy could answer, another voice rang out from the direction of the bench. "In my rink, you play by the rules or not at all, Thompson!" This was then followed up by, "Banks, Germaine, you weren't planning to play without a referee, were you?"

Guy laughed and saluted the man who was now skating up to them. "Wouldn't have dreamt of it, Coach Orien. I figured you'd be by as soon as you got wind of this. Mind if we impose upon you to do the honors?" He then flipped the puck up onto his stick and tossed it in Orien's direction.

Orien caught the puck with a quick snap of his wrist and a brisk nod. "Of course. Because I believe I'd bet good money to see those kids kick your asses." Then with a brief smile, he lifted his whistle and blew it. Following that implicit command, the JV team lined up and Guy dropped back, leaving Adam to deal with gaining control of the puck and giving himself a better vantage point. Orien blew the whistle again… and dropped the puck to the ice before quickly pushing back out of the way.

The moment the puck hit the ice, Adam had eyes for nothing else. It was imperative that they get control of the puck and quickly; it was equally imperative that they score early goals. Even with a pro's training and stamina, the two of them were going to tire out much more quickly than Guy's kids. If they didn't get an early lead, they were sunk.

Adam did manage to get control of the puck, but to his surprise found it not as easy as he'd imagined it would be. Guy hadn't been kidding about Makayla being a good puck handler. In the end, though, experience won out and Adam made off with the puck, pulling it back into his and Guy's own end zone so they could regroup. A quick nod and a flick of the eyes was all it took -- Guy had spotted a hole in their opponents' defense -- and they were off. And just like that, it was as if the last five years had never happened. They were back on the ice, playing for the Wild, thousands of fans cheering them on.

Had Adam had time to pull back and think about it, he would have marveled at how quickly he and Guy fell back into the gestalt of playing as a team, how well Adam remembered the signals, the feel of having a man who was not just a teammate but a friend at his back on the ice. As it was, he had no time to think, he only had time to enjoy it. And maybe that was for the best.

They pulled ahead, easily -- the early lead they'd so badly needed -- and just as he had when he was younger, Adam thrilled to the sound of the crowd in his head, cheering on their victory. Guy skated past him and they exchanged high fives, faces flushed and smiles wide. _This_ was what Adam had missed. He'd missed the camaraderie he'd always shared with Guy -- with the Ducks. These last five years… playing hockey had felt more like a job than a game. This, though… this was how the game should feel.

As the play wore on, they tired, moments when players would have been swapped out came and went with no replacements -- that was the deal, after all. As they tired, the other team picked up on it, rallied to it, and Adam cursed under his breath when Austin found an unlikely opening and managed to snake the puck out from under him. He looked up, catching Guy's gaze as they took off down center ice after Austin, then Makayla, then Austin again, as they passed the puck back and forth. There was a flash of irritation in Guy's eyes, but underneath it… pride. And when Makayla scored their team's first goal, pride swamped that irritation by a long shot and Guy let out a cheer as loud as anyone else in the rink when Coach Orien blew the whistle. And that was when Adam realized that the cheering was no longer in his head. They'd gathered a crowd. The Varsity team was arrayed in the stands, cheering on the JV team, their captain acting as an impromptu coach and helping to direct plays. There were other students there, too, as well as some of the faculty. Adam caught Guy's eye and Guy shrugged, but there was a lightness to the gesture, a hint of fun that had been eluding Adam as they'd played. _That_ was what he'd really missed. He'd missed the reminder that the game _was_ a game, not a life or death battle for victory. It was supposed to be fun.

As they moved into the last period of the game, one look at Guy revealed that they had to end this quickly or not at all. The JV team had scored three more goals in the second period, bringing the score up to 5-4 in Adam and Guy's favor, and judging by the look in Makayla's eyes as Adam skated up to center ice for the face off, the JV team had something planned that might upend the board.

Just as the puck dropped, number 74 let out a shrill ululation from the right side of the JV end zone and Adam startled, missed his chance to get the puck for the first time that day. Makayla, smirking the whole way, pulled the puck into her own end zone, lining up at the point of a formation that Adam knew far too well. He whipped around to face Guy. "You taught them the Flying V??"

Watching the group of JV players barreling in their direction, passing the puck amongst them as they went, Guy was laughing too hard to properly answer and just shook his head. Two men against an entire Flying-V… Adam couldn't see a way around it. That was normally Guy's job. Unfortunately, Guy was also laughing too hard to do it.

5-5.

Guy called a time out, and he and Adam skated over to the bench to get a drink and have a quick strategy meeting. Between gulps of water, Adam gasped out, "There has to be a way around that."

Guy shook his head, "Not with just the two of us. All they have to do is keep the puck inside the V and we won't get near it. There's a reason it's an effective strategy when used correctly."

Staring up the ice, Adam frowned. There had to be a way. He didn't want to admit it, but he needed to win this game. He needed to prove that he and Guy really could do anything together on the ice. The Ducks had to fly together this one last time. He stared at the rink, willing his fatigue-numbed brain to come up with an answer when suddenly… he had it. Mouth dropping open at his own stupidity, he said, "It's so simple… I can't believe we didn't think of it."

At Guy's raised eyebrow, Adam continued, "If we can't get the puck away from them when they're in formation, we'll just have to get it when they let go of it." Guy frowned. Adam reached out a hand and clapped Guy on the shoulder. "Guy… we need a goalie." Before Guy could say anything in response, Adam was over the wall and heading for the goal. Guy caught up to him before he was halfway there.

"No. Adam, if either of us should take the goal, it should be me. You're the better scorer between us by far."

Adam shook his head. "No. Not in this case." Resting a hand on Guy's shoulder, he met Guy's gaze head on. "Guy, you trained these kids. You know their every move. And you're faster than I am. You'll be moving on an opening before I even know it's there. I'll take the goal. You take the ice." Beaming a brilliant smile in Guy's direction, Adam gave him a small shake. "Go out and win this thing for us."

Guy met Adam's gaze for a moment, then nodded, a grin slowly stretching across his face. He held out his hand and his smile widened as he said once, quietly… "Quack."

Adam's eyes widened and he began to laugh. When he'd calmed, he placed his hand over Guy's and answered, "Quack."

Matching grins on their faces, Adam and Guy continued to quack, gaining speed and volume until with a mighty roar they said together, "Go Ducks!!"

By the time Guy got back to center ice, the JV team was staring back and forth between the pair of them as though they'd each grown a second head. Adam couldn't help but laugh. He hunkered down, preparing himself to move in case Guy managed to get the puck. But though Guy was ready for that wild shout this time, Makayla had the trick of it now. She was faster on the drop and still got possession of the puck. When the JV team formed up into their flying V, Guy didn't bother chasing them down the ice. He caught Adam's eye, nodded once, and with a flick of his gaze, Adam understood the plan. And it would be brilliant… if he could pull it off.

And that was all the time they had for planning. Moments later, the Flying V was in Adam's end zone, heading straight for him. He narrowed in on the puck, watching as it zipped between the players in a deadly serious shell game -- one that if he lost, he and Guy both lose. Right as the JV team were upon the goal, Makayla passed the puck one last time, between her legs to Austin, who was now directly behind her.

Austin and Adam squared off, and Adam held his breath, his entire being focused on Austin's chest to see which way he'd move. Austin shot and--

Seconds later, Adam had the puck and was on a breakaway down center ice with 20 seconds left on the clock. Just as the JV team sorted themselves out and scrambled after him, he skidded to a halt, popped the puck up on its side and blasted it down the ice towards where Guy was waiting just by the JV goal.

_Thanks, Russ._

The puck went wild -- knuckle-pucks always did, and this one looked like it was going to miss the goal by a mile -- but Guy was ready for it. Turning his back to it, he let it bounce harmlessly off his shoulder pads, then spun on the edge of his skate to get control of it and, before the goalie even knew what was going on, slid the puck right between his legs and into the goal.

6-5.

The buzzer sounded.

As those in the stands erupted into cheers, Adam raced down center ice and crashed into Guy, throwing his arms around him and laughing. Guy was smiling just as widely as he dropped his stick to throw his arms around Adam in return, bracing himself as best he could to keep them both upright. Right then, in that moment, Adam was 14 again, and they'd just won the Junior Goodwill Games. Together. He was 21 and they'd been drafted into the NHL… together. He was 23, 27, 32 and they'd won game after game after game… together. 

Before Adam could put that feeling into words, however, the JV team finally caught up and dog piled on top of them, bringing them crashing to the ice, shouting and cheering and just all around ecstatic that they'd been beaten by their coach and their hero. Coach Orien skated over to join them, happy enough to be smiling as widely as they were, but still trying to return everyone to order. Eventually he gave up and just blew the whistle and ordered everyone over to the side to get some water. What followed was an impromptu party, with JV and Varsity players alike queuing up to talk to Adam, to get his autograph, to take selfies with him, and for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel intrusive. Adam ate it up, enjoying that innocent enthusiasm, and directed all questions of game play towards Guy… who looked just as happy as Adam felt. It felt good. It _was_ good.

Adam never wanted to leave.

* * *

It took almost two hours to calm the children down enough for Adam and Guy leave. They showered in the locker room, changed back into street clothes, and Guy invited Adam and Coach Orien back to his house for dinner. Coach Orien declined the invitation; he had promised to pick up Coach Bombay from the airport early the next morning and wanted to call it an early night. That left only Adam and Guy. Which, now that the air was easier between them, Adam found he didn't mind. Instead, he found himself welcoming it. It had been too long since they'd had a chance to legitimately catch up without the bitterness of hurt feelings between them.

Guy's house proved to be a modest three bedroom, two bath arrangement. It wasn't ostentatious, but it was well-kept, neat and simple, just like Guy. Inside, it was warm, cozy. The furniture looked comfortable, well-used, even in the living room, and there were pictures _everywhere_ \-- former students, current students, pictures from their days in the Wild… pictures of the Ducks. 

Adam lingered over those pictures as Guy moved into the kitchen to throw dinner together for them. They looked so young… they'd _been_ so young. It was hard to believe that their days as Ducks had been more than twenty years ago. So much time had passed; so many memories built and cherished. And for the first time in a long time, Adam felt like he could look at those memories without the accompanying sting he'd felt for so long. For the first time since he'd agreed to come out for this retirement party, he was looking forward to seeing the rest of the Ducks, again.

When they settled down at the kitchen table with their dinner, Guy was quiet, pensive. Finally, unable to take the pregnant silence a moment more, Adam nudged him. "OK, I'll bite. What's eating you, now?"

Guy sighed, closed his eyes momentarily before resting his chin on his hands and meeting Adam's gaze head on. "Word is that you're being traded off the Wild." He paused for a moment before adding, "Is it true?"

Adam put his fork down and leaned back in his chair. He'd known he couldn't avoid this question forever, but he'd hoped he could put it off a little longer, at least, had hoped to only have to tell it once -- when they were all together. Still… he owed Guy that much. He shrugged. "I'm expensive. Too expensive for our new management. And I haven't been happy there in years." No need to detail how many. No need to go down that road, again. "I don't mind, really. It might be good to have a change of pace."

Guy nodded, but it was clear from the look in his eyes that he was far from satisfied with that answer. He said, "Have you considered that it might be time for a different pace, entirely?"

"What… leave the NHL? Retire?" Adam blinked, somehow surprised by the question, though on some level, he realized that he shouldn't have been. If anyone would have asked, it would be Guy. He ran a hand through his hair. Quietly, he said, "Yeah. I've thought about it. But I don't want to leave because I'm running away. I'd rather leave because I'm running _to_ something… and there's nothing to run to. I've been playing hockey all my life. I don't know anything else. What else is there for me to do?"

Guy leaned forward, an odd smile crossing his features. "Have you considered coaching?"

"Professionally?" Adam frowned. "The NHL is brutal on coaches, Guy. It's worse than it even is for players. You know that. I wouldn't want the fate of an entire franchise on my shoulders."

Guy shook his head. "Not pro coaching, Adam. Coaching at a school." 

Adam frowned, still not understanding.

Finally Guy rolled his eyes and jabbed one finger down at the table. "Coaching _here_ , Adam. At Eden Hall." When Adam just stared at him, Guy rolled his eyes. "We _do_ have a Varsity coaching spot opening up in another few months, you know."

Caught completely flatfooted by the suggestion, Adam blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "You don't want the Varsity coaching spot?"

Guy smiled. Offering a small shrug, he said, "I like the younger kids. We get on well and I feel like I do a pretty good job getting them a solid grounding in the basics." When Adam quirked an eyebrow at him, he shrugged again. "I'm happy where I am, Adam. Now that I can say that, I'm not in a hurry to make another change."

Adam nodded, but didn't say another word about it. This… he would need time. What Guy was asking wasn't really whether Adam wanted the job. What he was asking was if he was ready to give up his life in the spotlight, his fame, everything he'd ever worked for and wanted, for a chance to renew his love of the game. That wasn't a choice he could make over night. And it wasn't a choice he could make that weekend. He would need time.

* * *

**_Six months later…_ **

"Is that…?"

"Sh! He'll hear you!"

"But, it's--!"

This time, Adam didn't wait to hear what speculations the two who'd come up behind him would spew forth. Turning on his heel and arching an eyebrow, he said, "The bell rang nearly two minutes ago, kids. Don't you have a class to get to?"

Another voice followed quickly on from that admonishment as a dark-skinned girl with a riot of dark curls walked up and grabbed the two gawking freshmen by the jackets. "I swear, I have to do everything around here. You'll have plenty of time to gawk at Coach Banks at try-outs next week. Get a move on!" Adam's new Varsity Captain threw an apologetic smile over her shoulder and said, "Sorry, Coach. I'll keep these two out of your way until Coach Germaine has a chance to civilize 'em for you." And with that, she marched the two now blushing boys off to their classrooms.

A burst of laughter sounded from Adam's other side and as he turned to face the sound, its maker reached out a hand and clapped him on the shoulder. Guy smiled and said, "Welcome to Eden Hall, Coach… you'll fit right in."

Guy didn't say anything more. He didn't have to. But as he fell into step next to Adam as they headed back to their offices, Adam knew he was thinking it, too…

…Ducks fly together.

**Author's Note:**

> And I'd just like to take a moment to thank my beta-reader, [mesonyx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mesonyx). You provided me reassurance when I badly needed it and I'm grateful for the hand-holding. ^_^
> 
> Any and all mistakes are purely mine.


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